Green city

Managua, Nicaragua's capital, was half-destroyed in 1973 by an earthquake, and efforts at rebuilding have been minimal. Climbing the small hill in the middle of the city for the views, one has the impression of looking out over a large forest, with the odd cluster of buildings poking up here and there. Descending into the old centre, there are huge deserted expanses of shabby-looking concrete and trees, with the odd original building left standing here and there. It is a very odd place.

I stayed in the Barrio where all the budget hotels are, which unfortunately is a relatively high-crime area. Most of Managua is, however. I was repeatedly warned never to go out with my passport or more money than I absolutely needed, and a trip to the cash machine meant taking a taxi ten blocks, taking shelter in the shopping mall (a completely incongruous slice of norteamericana), then taking a taxi right home again, where the hotel owner would unlock the door for me. One night I went one block down to get some gallo pinto for dinner at a small local eatery, and saw an old man wandering the streets with a machete. "Old Miguelito," they told me back at the hotel. "Yes, he patrols the streets to keep this block safer for our guests." We heard his whistle throughout the evenings. I wondered what he would do if set upon by a gang of street kids.

Despite all that, I quite liked the few days I spent in Managua, because it at least felt authentic, and had a few museums, a theatre, two cinemas, and other trappings of a proper city. Still, when I left and finally could relax a little from the perpetual fear of crime, I did breathe a sigh of relief.

I also visited Granada and Leon, the two colonial towns and backpacker-hangouts of Nicaragua. I met lots of interesting international people, read the Brothers Karamazov in a hammock, ate great spaghetti bolognese, and sometimes braved the heat to take in the unquestionably beautiful architecture.

My favorite spot though was Isla de Ometepe, which I made the trek to even though I only had one day before I needed to be in Costa Rica. I braved the 90 minute ferry ride each way, which was the choppiest I've ever had (crazy considering it's a lake, not even the sea) and a one-hour bus ride to spend just one night at sleepy Altagracia. But the people of the island lived up to their reputation as the friendliest in Nicaragua, and I received so many genuine smiles it was worth the trip. Thanks especially to Juan who after chatting to me on the bus and finding I was going to his home town, offered to lend me his bike to explore the town. On my return, he and his friends cooked up a delicious sopa de pollo and invited me to share it with them. I also got to sample an extremely potent drink made by pouring a litre of beer and a half-bottle of rum into a small cooler full of ice, which was then passed round the table. I only wish I'd had longer to spend on the island. I will certainly return if I ever get the opportunity.

Thence to Costa Rica, and an amazing array of bird and plant life: I am excited to say that I saw not one but three resplendent quetzales, and a mating pair of three-wattled bellbirds! But that is another blog entry.